


(Participation medals of the heart.)

by softly (alexenglish)



Category: One Direction (Band), The Voice (Ireland) RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Canon Compliant, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/pseuds/softly
Summary: Ah, unrequited love.  When your best isn’t enough.





	(Participation medals of the heart.)

**Author's Note:**

> [a softer world](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/asofterworld)

 

 

“I met someone,” is what Bressie starts with, because it’s not bad enough that Niall’s pissed and halfway across the world – Bressie’s _met someone_. 

“S’been two weeks and that’s how you say hello?” When Niall laughs, it’s rough and bitter. He wishes he hadn’t bothered ringing Bressie at all. It’s been so long since they talked, it probably wouldn’t matter if he’d put it off even longer. 

Feels like he’s been around the world twice since he last heard Bressie’s voice. He doesn’t have a good excuse for why that is. It just is. Staring up at the off-white ceiling of his hotel room, Niall’s head is swimming too much for this conversation but he’s going to have it anyway.

“I’ve tried calling,” Bressie says. 

“I’ve been busy,” Niall replies flatly. “Like, touring.” The second leg is always the hardest. The frantic need to keep momentum leads to too much drinking, and too much messing about, and not enough… paying attention to what needs to be paid attention to, apparently.

“Yeah, ye have,” Bressie agrees. It’s not kind or understanding. There’s an edge to it that Niall really doesn’t like. 

It makes Niall feel more defensive than anything. He knows that isn’t the right reaction. There are better reactions to have, but right now every excuse he can think of is crowding the tip of his tongue. Niall knows they’re all useless, but they’re ready anyway. 

“I was going to call sooner,” Niall starts with, kicking his feet out so his heels hit the bed frame. He didn’t even make it all the way onto the mattress, his legs are draped over the side, toes brushing the carpet on every swing. “Got caught up. Loads of interviews this week.”

Bressie laughs. It sounds stale. “Loads of interviews every week. Photoshoots, and gigs, and jettin’ off.” It isn’t the sort of agreement that means Bressie’s commiserating. It’s just facts. Facts that Bressie doesn’t sound too happy about. 

“Jet lagged,” Niall says, trying to image what Bressie might be doing. He’s probably pacing, he gets like that when he’s on the phone. Niall can’t picture the surroundings, he hasn’t seen Bressie’s new place yet. “Too busy to think.”

“Too busy to call your boyfriend,” Bressie adds, easy as anything. 

The words lance right through Niall’s chest. He blinks up at the ceiling trying to ignore the sudden, tight feeling behind his eyes. 

“S’not that.” Niall rubs his hand over his face, tries to pull together his thoughts. They’re scattered by the shots of whiskey he’s had, the hurt he feels, the anger – at himself, mostly, for letting it get like this. 

“It’s been two weeks since I heard your voice.”

Niall’s glad Bressie isn’t there to see the way his eyes start to water, tears heavy under his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. 

“I thought you wanted this,” Bressie says. Now he sounds defeated. The ache in Niall’s chest gets sharper, blooms outwards until it’s taking up every part of him. “I thought you wanted to try.”

“I did,” Niall says, pleading in the right way. Like maybe he means it. Like maybe he didn’t spend the last two weeks in complete radio silence on purpose. Not _on purpose_ -on purpose, just trying to sort shit out in his own head.

There’s a pause. Bressie’s probably waiting for him to elaborate, but Niall doesn’t bother. He did want this -- he did want to try, but now all he wants to do is run away and all his explanations for it are shit.

“Who’d you meet, then?” Niall asks after a moment, quiet and rough. The phone case creaks under his fingers as he squeezes it, taking a breath. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as it should. There’s always been something unbelievable about Bressie wanting him. Makes it a bit easier -- he never felt like Bressie really belonged with him. Belonged _to_ him. 

At this point he doesn’t know if it’s actually true or a self-fulfilling prophecy, but either way, he was right. Bressie shouldn’t be his. It’s selfish to keep Bressie all to himself when he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. 

He’s 19, and on a world tour, and Bressie moved back to Ireland. Niall doesn’t even go back to Ireland anymore. Christmas, and that’s it. 

Now Bressie’s met someone.

“Niall…” Bressie voice is low, slow. Some kind of warning. 

“Want to know about her,” Niall says, laughing. 

It has to be a girl, doesn’t it? Young, but not too young – not as young as Niall. Real pretty, too. Busy, but not boybander busy – home more than a month out of the year. Easier to be with, less work to keep up with. Probably isn’t terrified of how much she likes Bressie. Won’t push him away for no good reason. 

Niall blinks at the ceiling, feeling exhausted. 

“Nothin’ happened,” Bressie says. “I wouldn’t –”

“I know,” Niall lies. He’s not sure he believes it about either of them.

He thinks about that girl he danced with at the club last week. Her slim waist under his hands, her lip gloss sticky on his cheek as he turned his head away from her mouth. Not really touching or even properly talking, but keeping her close all night even though he shouldn’t have. 

Thinking about Bressie the whole time. How long it would be until Niall would get to kiss him. 

“But you want to,” Niall says. 

Bressie scoffs, hard and loud. “I want t’ know if it’s always gunna be like this with ye,” he says. “Weeks without talking on the phone, barely any messages. I know you’re working, but I want to hear your voice.”

Niall wants to talk to Bressie, too. Wants to make sure they keep up. Wants to be _good_ for Bressie. Wants to be _right_ for him. He wants what he felt when Bressie kissed him for the first time back in London -- carefully, big hand shaking as he went to cradle Niall’s jaw. They were both so terrified of fucking it up, and that’s exactly what Niall’s doing.

It’s not a game for him, it never was. That’s what terrifies him the most. That’s why he sighs and says, “This wasn’t a good idea.” 

Calling wasn’t a good idea. Being pissed whilst trying to talk wasn’t good idea. Dating someone over a decade older than him wasn’t a good idea. Not when he’s 19 and literally has the world at his fingertips. Not when Bressie went home to put down roots, something Niall can’t even conceive of right now. Not now, and not anytime soon.

“Niall…”

He can hear the way Bressie’s voice cracks, breaks. The way the emotion surges to the surface. Niall’s crying now like, properly -- silent tears sliding down the sides of his face, into his hair. He wonders if Bressie is crying, too. 

Niall wishes he didn’t mean it. He wishes he wanted to take it back. He wishes he wasn’t scared of how much he might love Bressie, but he is. 

He’s scared of that, and scared of being so in love so fucking young. He’s scared of loving Bressie more than Bressie loves him. Scared of loving Bressie _less_ than Bressie loves him. Scared of never wanting it to end, completely unable to wrap his mind around _forever_. Scared one day he’s going to wake up and feel _stuck_ , and not know how to fix it. 

He’s already so afraid of breaking Bressie’s heart when it’s only just begun. He doesn’t know how to let it _be_. He doesn’t know how to just let it _happen_. 

So, he can’t let it happen. 

“You should talk to her,” Niall says quickly, wiping the back of his hand over his face harshly, trying to get rid of the tears. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but he doesn’t have to know. He’s 19, he’s allowed to be an idiot. “Get to know her, like.”

“Niall,” Bressie says, sharper now. 

“It kinda silly, right?” Niall clears his throat, tries to sound like he means what he’s saying. He _does_ mean it. “Expectin’ us to work out like this, right? Eoghan was right, I think --”

“You know he wasn’t,” Bressie growls. 

Niall wishes it were true but, “We’re just at different points in our lives. Want different things.”

He doesn’t want to keep looking at his phone, mentally calculating how much time has passed since he last talked to Bressie. Doesn’t want to spent his whole day waiting for a text or a call from Bressie. Doesn’t want to care if Bressie meets someone. 

He doesn’t want to miss Bressie as much as he does. This goddamn bone-deep _ache_ in his heart that he can’t rid himself of. It wasn’t there before they kissed, and now it’s all that he feels, all he can think about.

He wants Bressie with him, close enough to touch. He wants to be able to kiss Bressie as much as humanly possible. Wants to sit on his lap whilst they talk, wants to hold him, wants to fuck him. He wants Bressie every second of everyday, but he _can’t_ \--

He wants to stop this mess of heartache before it gets any worse.

“I want you,” Bressie says, hurt coloring his voice so deeply Niall wants to cry even harder, but he doesn’t. 

“I know,” Niall says. He does know, but Niall wants to be selfish and Bressie deserves better than that. “We tried, but --”

“This isn’t trying,” Bressie interrupts, quiet but furious. “This is you giving up. This is you giving up ‘cause it’s _hard_.”

Niall knows it’s true. The truest thing either of them have said during the entire phone call. 

“You wouldn’t have told me you met someone if you didn’t want me t’ react, Brez.” 

Another truth.

“I want you to _care_ ,” Bressie says. “I thought you cared, Little. I thought this mattered t’ you.”

 _It does_ , Niall thinks, but he says, “I’m glad you met someone.” 

**Author's Note:**

> this is set uhhh 2013, later in the year but before Niall's 20. the person Bressie met is definitely Roz. I just really wanted a break up fic for whatever reason so here you have it. I think this is my favorite proposed canon for them, like they fall for each other when Niall is young and it just doesn't work out for literally every reason you could think of, so they break up and it takes awhile but they're friends again. and y'know Bressie and Roz break up, and Nessie become closer and closer, and the album drops and Bressie knows it's about him, and Niall still isn't ready but Bressie Gets It, and I dunno they let themselves take it slow and really fall for each other in a new way and live happily ever after, whatever. so if this made you sad at all, just think of that <3
> 
> [reblog on tumblr](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/post/169484104927/participation-medals-of-the-heart)


End file.
